The Dark Lord Receives a Letter
by TheTitaniumSerpent
Summary: The Dark Lord receives a dream, a letter and a photograph. A (fortunately) short one-shot. Includes privates, foul language, bad humour and a brief guest appearance by Ron Weasley's bare arse. Friendship ain't magic here, folks.


_Nothing belongs to me, I make no profit from this, Harry Potter and friends belong to J. K. Rowling. English isn't my first language, and I've no Beta. I wrote this because I was tired and couldn't use these ideas in "Bearing Your Burden"._

* * *

The Dark Lord smirked as he sent the image of the corridor and the door from the Department of Mysteries to Harry Potter's mind. The boy's mind seemed to be quite unprotected, and this was the third time he'd managed to send the image. He was truly glad he hadn't revealed the traitorous bastard, Snape, how he managed to get into Harry Potter's mind.

Snape, whom he'd trusted above all others, had turned out to be a traitor beyond words. Of course Snape had begged for the life of Mudblood Lily Potter, but the stupid woman had refused to stand aside, and had caused Lord Voldemort terrible pain and years spent in deplorable state, living off lesser beings. He'd finally managed to return to a fully physical form, although it was hardly as good as his previous body had been, but still powerful.

Snape had returned to grovel, but another one of his servants had found out the pale man was in love with another filthy Mudblood, a girl by the name of Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best friend. They said the girl was extraordinarily bright: she'd been older than any of her classmates, and had then managed to age herself by over almost two years during her third school year by overusing a Time-Turner. The schoolgirl had matured and managed to lure his most trusted servant to be her lover, and so Snape had turned traitor to his master. Snape had managed to flee his demise while Lord Voldemort had threatened and gloated, ruining a perfectly good ominous monologue... damn!

He was also pretty sure Lucius Malfoy had dared to snicker when he'd turned and found out he'd been ranting for minutes to empty chains. Shite.

But, no matter. Snape and his Mudblood whore would get their comeuppance. The Dark Lord was still powerful and the day of his triumph over Harry Potter was nigh. The boy, betrayed by his own curiosity, would be lured into the Department of Mysteries, where his servants would take from him the Prophecy, and he'd find out how to destroy the last bearer of the name of Potter. Snape had no idea his Lord could enter the boy's mind, and the boy detested Snape anyway: his mind was open and defenceless.

Then something very strange occurred: the boy in the dream managed to open the door, and it opened to reveal Lord Voldemort himself... dressed as a Muggle clown, huge ears of a donkey sticking up from the red wig, which nonetheless left a bald spot visible at the top. The Dark Lord Voldemort behind the door was sitting in a loo, reading something with pictures of naked witches in the cover, and screamed in a high-pitched voice while trying to scramble the luring pink-and-purple pants to cover his pasty-white legs. His cock was briefly visible: it was tiny.

The Dark Lord woke up from his trance, his red eyes blazing with fury, and screamed his rage into the air of his bedroom. Bellatrix, who had the misfortune of bursting into his chamber in alarm, died immediately as he shot the Killing Curse just to make himself feel a bit better. Didn't work. It took killing Dolohov and torturing Crabbe with the Cruciatus for fifteen minutes to make him feel better. Nagini was nowhere in sight, so he couldn't even get a good cuddle, and he'd rather not fuck Bella's cooling corpse. Perhaps Lucius would do: he looked a bit like a woman in a dim light. Must be that luscious hair of his... and did he really shave and moisturise his arse daily, like the ice-bitch Narcissa claimed?

An owl flew in and dropped off a letter, fluttering away immediately without waiting for a treat. Not that he'd had received any: Nagini usually liked owls, and the owls usually became treats themselves. The rest had learned to deliver the mail and flee.

The Dark Lord cast detection spells on the letter, but found nothing unusual or harmful: he had Walden Macnair open it anyway. Minions were cheap, after all. The envelope contained a few simple lines: "We got them all, you snake-faced bastard. Come and fight me, coward. Harry Potter (& friends)" A photograph fell from the envelope: in the picture were Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley... and Nagini, whose head lay severed at their feet, a few feet away from her body. A pile of broken objects was piled upon her head: his old diary, the Gaunt ring, Slytherin's locket, the cup of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's diadem. His precious Horcruxes in pieces and his lovely Nagini slain.

The picture, repeating in cycle, showed Albus laughing at something Potter had just said. Snape had his arm around the filthy Mublood, and he smirked and kissed her and made a very rude gesture to the spectator of the photo with his right hand. And Ronald Weasley... Ronald Weasley lifted his robes, dropped his trousers and bared the red-haired and pale cheeks of his arse on the camera, making the other figures in the picture turn away from the boy with expressions of distaste and disgust. The cycle repeated over, and over, and over...

The Dark Lord Voldemort screamed.


End file.
